


For the Hoard

by phae



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Christmas Fluff, Dragons, Gift Giving, Interspecies Romance, Kings & Queens, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-24 07:06:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17096060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phae/pseuds/phae
Summary: Philandros doesn’t truly understand most human customs, even the ones he is well familiar with after centuries spent observing and interacting with them, but the act of gift-giving in celebration of the Winter Solstice is one in particular that boggles his mind.





	For the Hoard

**Author's Note:**

  * For [uofmdragon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/uofmdragon/gifts).



> This is set in the vague future of the dragon!Phil verse, where they’re married/mated, and Clint has become King of Bartonia.

Philandros doesn’t truly understand most human customs, even the ones he is well familiar with after centuries spent observing and interacting with them, but the act of gift-giving in celebration of the Winter Solstice is one in particular that boggles his mind. To a dragon, presenting another with a gift is only really done in the instance of securing a mate, when one dragon selects a choice treasure from their hoard and bequeaths it unto their intended, inviting the other to share in their bounty.

 

But the humans, they hardly need a cause to start doling out gifts left and right, at least the kind and generous ones don’t. And that’s his sweet Clint to his core, so kind most mistake him for foolish and too generous by half even to those who do not deserve it.

 

And so for Clint, Philandros makes an exception to find his mate _another_ present, in honor of this silly human holiday. He debates for long hours over what to give Clint, watching his mate by the light of the dying embers in the hearth as he sleeps soundly by Philandros’ side. There’s no use scouring his hoard for a gift. Although Clint cherishes the amethyst crystal Philandros chose for him when they mated (he even had Philandros cut off a chip to be fastened into a pendant he wears constantly now, so that he can always carry a piece of Philandros with him) it’s only due to the sentiment behind it; he has no use for gems or wealth, and no desire for them besides. No, Clint will want something thoughtful, that proves how well Philandros knows him.

 

Which is how Philandros decides upon a custom-made bow, because he understands his beloved down to his bones, and Clint is only ever at-home in his own skin when he has a bow string singing under his fingertips. And as he anticipated, Clint loves it instantly.

 

“No! Really? This is for _me_?” Clint asks incredulously when Philandros hands it over the evening of their planned gift-exchange. His hands run from the top to the bottom and back again, smoothing over the curves and marveling at every nook and cranny he finds. “Look at this craftsmanship! And the inlaid carvings! Oh, she’s gorgeous, Phil. _Thank you_.”

 

“You are most welcome, darling one,” Philandros replies with a soft smile. He is not a congenial being by nature, but Clint’s smiles always seems to bring out the romantic soul buried deep within him.

 

Too soon, though, Clint’s happy fawning dissolves into nervous twitching, his fingers tapping an uneven staccato against the smooth wood. “What is it?” Philandros asks with a worried frown, a sudden fear that his gift is to be rejected sweeping over him.

 

Clint’s shoulders bunch up together in a shrug before slumping back down abruptly. “Compared to this, my gift for you seems so...uninspired.”

 

Scoffing, Philandros reaches up to flick Clint’s forehead in warning. “I’ll be the judge of that,” he declares, raising an expectant eyebrow as he holds his hand aloft expectantly.

 

“It’s not--that is--well,” Clint stammers as he carefully sets aside his new bow and takes to fiddling with the strings fastening together the top of his tunic. “Honestly, I mean, what do you even get for the dragon who has everything?”

 

“More of everything?” Philandros shoots back immediately, eyes wide and tone innocuous.

 

Clint cuts him a sharp glare without lifting his head, prompting Philandros to grin. His darling human is so easily riled up and so very adorable when piqued. But then Clint’s anxious fidgeting turns to a purpose as he starts unraveling the ties at his neck, pulling them loose as if--

 

“Are you to be my present?” Philandros guesses with a leer.

 

Clint catches his bottom lip between his teeth and gnaws at it absently as a flush spreads up his neck and across his cheeks. “Essentially.”

 

Philandros’ brows arch up at the stark admission, and he focuses in on Clint even more than he usually does. For a human, Clint’s body is quite exquisite, and Philandros very much enjoys when Clint puts himself on display for Philandros’ enjoyment.

 

“I know it’s not much. I mean, obviously I’m already yours,” Clint rambles, finally shucking the garment from his shoulders and letting it drop to the floor. “I just thought it might be nice to make it, I don’t know, official?”

 

And there, perched right over Clint’s hidden heart, is Philandros’ present: a carefully tattooed design of a triangle set atop a larger diamond, interlocked at their peaks. It’s Philandros’ mark, his signature, the one he painstakingly etches into every prized possession within his hoard to ensure that any who dare steal from him know exactly who is coming after them. And now it’s on Clint, _his_ Clint, his darling, dearest mate, who is so deliciously perfect in Philandros’ all-seeing eyes.

 

Philandros surges forward into Clint’s space, pressing their chests together as he kisses Clint fiercely, the tattoo burning against his own chest through his vest like a brand. He pulls back only far enough that his lips can graze across Clint’s as he growls, “You are by far the most precious and treasured addition to my hoard, my king. I swear to you that I will forever adore you above all else.” With another peck, Philandros pulls back and rakes his gaze over his Clint with possessive glee. ”You are truly beyond compare.”


End file.
